


Untitled 1.5

by capitainpistol



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Confession, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-03 22:27:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21186992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/capitainpistol/pseuds/capitainpistol
Summary: Part of the previous untitled piece, but wanted to post it on its own bc I'll never write anything this romantic again.





	Untitled 1.5

Jorah entered their bedchamber, face flushed with a smile. He had something to tell her. Daenerys hugged her knees, soaking in the heat of the tub. He stopped to look at her, tilted his head the same way, taking a deep breath like he always did when he wanted her. Used to confuse her, that look, frighten her with its intensity. 

What came next frightened her more. He read her mood, forgetting whatever he had to say and following her eyes to the pardon on the table. Jorah walked to it like a man condemned, needing to read only a few words before he crushed it in his hand and tore it in two.

“If you say you don't want it, I'll probably hate you again.”

He did not answer right away, but he answered and truthfully. “I do want it, but... but this was not the way.”

“There was a right way?”

“Aye, my queen.”

“Queen of what? Queen of this tiny tin tub. Queen of Bear Island? Of Lord Jorah Mormont's cock?”

Jorah's neck reddened in anger. “Now you mock me with no need. I will not defend myself this time. I have nothing to defend.” He shook his head in disbelief. “This... Daenerys, I...” He stopped himself, realizing he was about to do what he swore not to. 

“What was the way? How were you going to get me to bend the knee?”

Jorah knelt in front of the tub. “Never. I was never going to ask you. You're right. There is no right way. Only a plan. A foolish old bear's plan for another woman he cannot have.”

“Tell me,” she said. 

Jorah tilted his head again to look into her eyes. He stroked her back with his wide huge hands and combed her hair out of her damp face flushed with heat. 

“First I sent up this bath, because the heat makes you as lazy and happy as a dragon in the sun. Then I was going to take you to bed and make you happier and lazier. Keep you there and have you every way I want you, until you could not do without me between your thighs.” Jorah drew hot water over her shoulders, made her gooseprickles disappear. Made her smile. Made her flush. “Then I was going to ask you to come to Bear Island with me. To show it to you. To ride with you through the deep green woods of hundred foot trees, moon-white streams in between. Rivers so cobalt you would believe a mirror glass could sway. Colors winter has never conquered and exist nowhere else, not even the Dothraki sea we once saw together in full bloom. I wanted to show you where the bears sleep, where I had my first woman, where I killed my first man. All in the same place, as it happens, but not at the same time. “ That made her laugh and he was glad, but he did not laugh. “I wanted you to see it so you could see why I yearned to return.” Jorah paused, resigned to unhappiness. “Then, if my cousin allowed me into the Long Hall, I was going to ask for your hand.” He squeezed her neck gently, squeezed the tension out until she shut her eyes and opened them again, but he did not move her cheek from lolling on her knees, she did not stop hugging them. Jorah grazed her bottom lip with his thumb, his eyes following the pink curve of her mouth as it opened. Was he ever going to kiss her again? “Daenerys, I didn't know. I swear it.” His hand trembled. All his gentle strength left him, that sweet comfort of his caress with it. He dropped his head. “This is not fair.” And shook it. “This is not fair.” His bald spot turned red. His great hulk of a body rumbled with a bitter laugh. “Why would the gods do this? I had you... I never thought...” Jorah heard her rising, the water sloshed against the tin. He lifted his chin and found her sitting upright in front of him. She stroked the beard down his cheeks, touched the demon tattoo he was so ashamed of like she did when she straddled him. ”I had you... for a little while. I was happy.” Jorah kissed her cheek wondering if this one was to be the last. “I made you happy, didn't I? Your old, ugly bear made you happy.”

Daenerys gently drew away, nuzzling against the cool of his scratchy beard. Her wet silver-gold hair tangled into the black. “He did.” Jorah heard the past tense, nodded and made to stand, but Dany gripped his thick forearms. “He does. He makes me very happy, yet he broke my heart once.”

“And never again.”

Daenerys drew him down back to her. “He breaks it now. You want to go home, Jorah.”

“You are my home, Daenerys.”

“You want to go home.”

“You want me to make a choice? Fine. I choose you. I lost Bear Island a long time ago.”

Dany looked at him carefully and said again, quietly. “Do you want to go home, Ser Jorah? With me?” 

Jorah looked down at her breasts, at the droplets beading down the muscly curved path they made in between down, down to the rippling water. “Yes,” he admitted. “But that's nothing. That doesn't matter. I would never ask you to kneel before anyone. Never.”

“That is not what you ask. Your plan ends on Bear Island. We must needs get to Bear Island to see the plan through.”

Jorah did not understand. Daenerys didn't let him think. She rose to press her wet body to his cold surcoat and kissed him. “Come in here with me,” she said, pulling. 

His despair left him. “Where will I sit? This was for you, my queen.”

“I know where I'll sit.”


End file.
